Volume 2 Honoring Robin Chapter 25: Let’s solemnly welcome the next victim of the evil alchemist Mason: Zhou Keer!
Dr. Harley Quinzel finally decided to stay in Mason's shop for a while, not just because the extremely young owner was kind enough to waive the cost of her medicine.
More importantly, she did drink a little too much at the colleague party, and it was an extraordinary performance for her to stagger all the way here.
As an intern working in Arkham Asylum, work pressure is inevitable and is generally much greater than that of neurologists in other places.
Relaxing with wine after get off work is indeed a good choice.
But now, Harley felt that she had found a more effective alternative to stress relief than alcohol, such as the golden potion that Mason was placing in front of her, which made people feel happy just by smelling it.
"Come on, give it a try."
Mason took the euphoria potion off the counter, took a dose with a medicine spoon and put it into Harley's water, then made a "please" gesture to her.
Of course, as an excellent psychology expert, Ms. Harley was vigilant enough even when she was drunk. She picked up the water glass, sniffed it, and looked suspiciously at Mason who was expectant.
she says:
"Is there anything illegal in this?"
"That's a good question. Girls need to learn to protect themselves when they are out there."
Mason leaned against his counter, folded his arms, and said:
"But let's think about it with Miss Harley's wisdom. Would an upright Gotham City Police Chief recommend his colleagues to a place that is full of filth?
You know Gordon, right?
You know what kind of person he is. The store that he actively recommends should be as strong as his character and integrity. Of course, I won’t be angry if you don’t drink it.
This is just a friendly alchemist who wants to show his fellow scientists the wonders of mysticism so that we can move on to the next topic more smoothly. "
"What you said makes sense."
Harry shook his head, which was a little dazed due to drunkenness, picked up the water glass and raised it to Mason, saying:
"Well, here's to alchemy or whatever."
After saying that, she drank the water in the cup.
This action has a bit of the boldness of a drunkard.
Then, the drunk girl blinked her eyes and could feel a surge of excitement rising from the bottom of her heart that she had not felt for a long time.
That feeling was very similar to the joy I felt when I made it to the national finals after practicing gymnastics since I was a child. It was also like the sense of mission and accomplishment I felt when I graduated from medical school and entered the society.
It was as if all the good things in my past life were awakened at this moment, shattering the haze in my heart and bringing the simplest and purest happiness back to me.
"I feel like singing and dancing now..."
Dr. Zequel covered his heart with his hands, his cheeks flushed as he said to Mason:
"Is this normal? Or some kind of 'magic side effect'?"
“It’s normal.”
Mason stroked his chin and said:
"But to be able to reach this level of happiness in such a short time, it seems that you are really depressed. I heard that many doctors at Arkham Asylum couldn't stand the working environment and resigned. Is it really that bad?"
"Other than it being really bad, everything else is fine."
Driven by the excitement in her heart, she began to complain to Mason:
"You know that the mildest patients in Arkham have the most severe hallucinations, schizophrenia and antisocial personality are the standard there, and there are many strange and unique specimens.
Arkham Asylum is a "holy place" for practitioners in the field of psychology and psychiatry. As a doctor working in a holy place, what can I complain about?
"It does sound interesting."
Mason looked at Harley Zequiel, who seemed to have brightened up all of a sudden, and said:
"Then based on your professional knowledge, is this medicine that I just provided to you that can lift your spirits and produce positive happiness useful for your patients?"
"Well."
The young man's question stumped Dr. Harley.
She stopped where she was and frowned, carefully feeling her current state.
As a professional psychiatrist, she could easily tell the difference between the chaotic happiness brought by chemical drugs and the positive and uplifting feeling that filled her heart at this moment.
But she couldn't jump to conclusions, so she said:
"I need to make sure this magic potion is not addictive. And why are you asking?"
"Because I'm doing my own experiments, too, Dr. Harley."
Mason took out several different colored and shaped potions from the counter and placed them in front of the doctor. He introduced them from left to right:
"Cheerants, sedatives, soothing agents, invigorating agents, confusing agents, and the most exaggerated felicity agent, are all from the same series of magic potions. Their common feature is that they all work on people's emotions and mental states.
The vitality potion that you and Gordon took before also falls into this category, but it was instantly effective, while the potions I took out are all medium- to long-term effective.
Take the euphoria potion you just drank, for example.
I only give you a third of the normal dose, and it still gives you this positive uplifting feeling and happiness for four hours.”
The young man spoke to Dr. Harley Quinzel, who was stunned by what he heard, in a very professional alchemist's tone:
"I have tested the effects of these potions on ordinary and normal people, but I still lack some strong evidence to prove that my potions can be effective on individuals in any condition.
I mean people with very extreme emotional and mental disorders, commonly known as 'mental patients'.
And where better to do that than with the residents of Arkham?"
"Shua"
Harry was completely sober.
She stepped back a few steps cautiously, looking at the young Mason as if he were a bad guy, then she grabbed something in her handbag and said fiercely:
"You want to use my patients for experiments? Do you think I will help you? Do you know that this is against medical ethics?"
"I know, I just don't care."
Mason leaned over the counter, shrugged, and said:
"Because Arkham Asylum is the testing ground for new drugs of the medical department of Wayne Industries. This fact has long been known to the whole of Gotham, no, the whole country.
When the Metropolitan Planet Daily has no news to write, it will publish a few real-time interviews to criticize you.
I also heard from Gordon that you would cooperate with some government departments to select those hopeless prisoners in the mental hospital to conduct some "inhumane" experiments.
If I remember correctly, it was called 'Suicide Squad.'"
Mason's words made Dr. Harley's face darken. It was obvious that she knew some dark secrets about Arkham Asylum.
But she still shook her head and refused:
"That's the behavior of my superiors. I can't do anything about it. But at least I can control my own hands. I won't cooperate with you in using these drugs without a production date, or even a specific formula or precautions, on my patients!
Although I admit it is quite effective.”
"Well, you are a doctor with medical ethics. I admire you very much."
Mason nodded and seemed to give up, but the next moment, he changed the subject, took out his ID card from Dr. Leslie's clinic, waved it, and said:
"As you can see, I am actually a nursing practitioner. My superiors in the clinic often told me that a doctor's duty is to save lives and heal the wounded, and being able to cure patients is the most basic professional ethics of a doctor.
If you can't even perform the most basic surgery properly, then you're still a quack no matter how good your medical ethics are.
Well, Dr. Hallie, I have to ask you a question.
How many patients have you cured during your time at Arkham Asylum? Or, to extend this, how many patients have been discharged alive since the establishment of Arkham Asylum?
Although Arkham Asylum is not the historically "famous" St. Elizabeth's Mental Hospital, I think there is no difference between the two in terms of treatment efficiency.
They are all offices set up by the devils from hell on earth.”
Harley Quinzel was stumped by the question.
Generally speaking, patients who were sent to Arkham had no hope of being discharged. Being sent there meant life imprisonment, and even she, a doctor, believed so.
Cure your own patients?
What a joke!
On her first day at work, the dean told her that her job and that of all doctors was to ensure that the patient's condition did not worsen.
There was no mention of treatment at all.
If Arkham's patients were so easily cured, that place wouldn't have become a "holy land" in the fields of criminal psychology and mental science.
When she was silent, Mason spoke again:
"I know that in the field of mental science, you 'scientific alchemists' also use chemically synthesized drugs to treat patients' mental disorders.
So in terms of methodology there is actually no difference between us.
At least I can guarantee that my potions are extracted from pure natural substances and do not contain any harmful substances.
Of course, if you insist on a formula and FDA license, I can't get one for you. But Dr. Harley, do you want to be a quack with medical ethics?
Or do you want to fulfill the oath you made to your patients when you became a doctor?
Since modern medicine has proven that you can't cure Arkham's patients, why not draw some inspiration from ancient wisdom?
Just think of it as giving your patients a chance, and also giving yourself a chance."
The young man curled his lips and whispered:
"How much worse can it get? Their situation can't get any worse, and you know that. How about this?"
Mason unscrewed the stopper of the demulcent that he had prepared with great difficulty, and dripped a drop into his mouth in front of Dr. Harley.
As the potion flowed into his throat, he quickly felt his mind calming down rapidly, and his emotions also quickly soothed to the most peaceful state.
He said:
"Before I give you all the medicines, I drink a little to prove that they are harmless. It only takes one try, just like the medical department of Wayne Industries uses them to test new drugs.
If it doesn't work, I apologize.
If it helps, I can provide you with these drugs on a long-term basis to help your patients while I complete my trial.
Other than that, I don’t take a penny.”
"I……"
Harry was moved.
She thought of a patient friend of hers. Ever since she had joined Arkham Asylum, she had watched that poor man struggle with an uncontrollable desire for destruction.
She really wanted to help the girl who was about her own age.
" Okay, I can try, but only this once!"
Harley Quinzel gritted her teeth, glared at Mason, looked at the various potions in front of her, and asked:
"How do you use these things?"
“It’s a good match.”
Mason immediately smiled very friendly and gentle. He patiently explained the usage and then watched the doctor leave with the medicine.
He had great confidence in his potion.
Because wizards in the Hogwarts world have a long history of using these drugs to treat mental illness, this is ancient wisdom that has stood the test of time.
"I wonder if Zhou Ke'er can still go crazy after drinking a bottle of tranquilizer and tonic every day?"
Mason lay on the counter and thought maliciously:
"If I can cure that bastard, maybe Batman will give me a one-ton gold medal? Of course, even if I can't cure him, it's no loss, after all, it's not someone else who will suffer.
Considering what that bastard has done, using him as a test subject for the drug is a bargain for him."
——
Dr. Harley soon returned to Arkham Asylum.
The vitality potion that Mason gave her as a friendly gift was very effective, allowing her to stay energetic even when she stayed up late at work.
But she was not a fool who could be fooled by others. Before giving the potions to the patients, she took them to find her "good friend" in Arkham.
"Ivy."
Harry walked into a single "VIP" ward and said to the slender figure sitting cross-legged with her back to the green wall:
"How was your day?"
"If you think it's normal that I want to burn down all the chemical plants and nature-destroying bastards in Gotham, then I have to admit that I had a very pleasant day today."
A hoarse voice with a hint of mania answered Dr. Harley's question.
The latter sighed and walked forward without fear like the other doctors. She took out the potion in her arms and placed it next to the patient marked as "extremely dangerous".
She whispered:
"Ivy, I need your ability to sense toxins to help me find out if these drugs are harmful?"
"Another pathetic compound?"
The woman with long fiery red hair but strange green skin and unique scales said with disgust:
“I said, Harley, these pathetic industrial products are of no use to anyone in this prison, and everyone here deserves to die!
including me."
"Just think of it as doing me a favor, Ivy."
Dr. Harry, who was always very cool and independent in front of outsiders, begged like a spoiled child in front of her good friend.
The dangerous patient sighed, as if he could not refuse such a request, and he picked up the bottle of demulcent, twisted it open, and sniffed it under his nostrils.
"Hmm? The fragrance of plants is extracted and boiled using a unique method, and some power that I don't understand is used to enhance the healing effect of the plants used as ingredients.
There is not even a trace of the disgusting chemical products of modern industry.
It comes from nature.
This is a gift from nature, no doubt about it! ”
The green-skinned woman, who was full of disgust for everything, now spoke in an unusually gentle tone.
She held the potion in her hand and said:
"Harry, it is not only harmless but also full of wisdom. Just smelling this pure and harmless fragrance makes me intoxicated. Tell me!
Where did you find these goodies?
I can feel it working for me.
Yes, the consciousness left in the plant tells me that it can soothe my anger and madness. "
The next moment, before Dr. Harley could even stop him, he saw his good friend raise his head and drink most of the medicine in the bottle. He even let out a hoarse and comfortable moan as if he had drunk the most mellow wine.
After just a dozen seconds, this patient with severe mania and terrible antisocial personality calmed down.
She opened her eyes.
Those green, gem-like pupils had never been so calm.
She looked at Harley, who was full of surprise, with gratitude and said:
"Thank you, Harley. I haven't felt this peaceful in a long time. I think I can get some good sleep tonight."
A few minutes later, Dr. Harley gently closed the door of the ward and looked into the room again.
His good friend, Gotham's top villain known as "Poison Ivy", was lying on the bed, sleeping quietly like a baby, and her charming mouth even curved into a smile.
Dr. Harley didn't know what Poison Ivy dreamed about.
But she was sure that it was definitely not a dream of destroying all the heavy industries in Gotham City and burning the evildoers who disrespected nature with fire from the sky.
“Is it really that magical?”
Dr. Harley looked at the bottle of medicine in her hand in surprise . She pursed her lips and decided to try again. Then she quickly came to another single VIP ward.
Through the iron gate, she said to the thin figure who was playing poker with his back to her, with a strange and joyful sharp laugh that she herself did not even notice:
"Hey, Mr. J, I brought you something good for your health."
"Ha, my Harley baby, you brought me Batman?"
The guy in the iron gate made a joke that made Dr. Harley laugh out loud.
But she shook her head seriously as if flirting, and said as she opened the iron door:
"Of course it's not the Batman that makes people sick, but it is indeed good for your physical and mental health. Promise me that you will take the medicine obediently tonight."
